Fight or Flight

Oh my God you guys, I am in total crisis mode. So, you know how I was having issues with my hair girl? If you don't remember, I felt like I was getting sub-par service but still paying full price. Full price being A LOT of money. I was paying close to $200 for a cut and one color process and no styling! I loved my hair girl though and initially felt like she was worth it. But, in recent visits, her service has definitely not been what it used to be. Fast forward to today. I had my first appointment with someone new.

I am very picky when it comes to my hair people. Not everyone can cut my curly hair. In the past, people have had a tendency to misjudge the springiness of the curls when dry and cut my hair way too short. Other times they put in layers that only work on people with straight hair. I've had a few disasters along the way. I'm also pretty picky with the color. I want it to look natural and shiny like I was just born with hair this gorgeous color. I don't always get that result but I felt like my girl got it right most of the time.

I've been on the hunt recently for a new person to try. I've been asking around and had gotten a couple recommendations. A girl that I work with recommended the guy she sees. She told me that he is really good and recommends stuff that he thinks will look good on your hair... I trusted her opinion because her hair always looks good. She told me that he was gay and that he was very outspoken about what looks good and what doesn't. I thought, "PERFECT!” that is exactly what I need. Some bitchy guy telling me if I look hot or not. Finally a genuine opinion from someone who isn't afraid to tell me like it is! So I made an appointment with her guy.

Well, let me start by saying he wasn't the "gay hairdresser" stereotype that I had envisioned. I pictured some hot, young, David Bromstad looking guy dressed in a fierce outfit looking at me with the "Blue Steel" stare. Not-even-close! This guy was more Robin Williams in Bird on a Wire, but less stylish. He was like a gay grandpa. He even had to sit on a stool to cut my hair because he had thrown his back out. Seriously! Despite all that, when we started talking about what I wanted I felt pretty confident with him. I told him that I wanted to keep my length but take out some of the bulk on the sides of my hair. For the color I told him I wanted to get back to my natural dirty blonde color. He said he'd do all that but add some highlights around my face for depth and movement. Great, I thought. Sounded wonderful to me. Then we got started.

Let's just say, gay grandpa was not gentle. That man was pushing my head around and whipping it back and pulling my hair. I almost got whiplash. He got the main color on first and then, instead of letting that process and washing it out and then moving on to the highlights, he went ahead and put the highlights right on top of the other color. I was really confused and a little worried. I've had my hair colored lots of times and no one has ever done that before. Maybe that is a technique some people use but it seemed a little sloppy and ass backwards to me. But, whatever, he's a professional so I went with it. He put me under the dryer to process.

After I processed he took me to the sink to wash it all out. Again, homeboy was not gentle. Nor did he know how to use the hose. You'd think him being gay and all... you get what I'm saying. We might as well have taken a shower together because I was soaked. My whole face was wet. It felt like Chinese water torture. His shampooing was very vigorous and the cuff on his sleeve kept hitting me in the nose/mouth area. To make it worse, his shirt cuff smelled like cigarettes, mints, and Bijon for men cologne. Blech.

Hair cut time. Now, I don't really think he cut much off my hair. It doesn't look like he did anyway. But he had a very interesting cutting technique. It was more "Edward Scissorhands” than experienced hair stylist cutting technique. I seriously at one point had a day dream that he was going to cut off the top of my ear. It was that crazy. He was just flipping my hair around and cutting. There was no measuring to make sure the sides were even or anything. I'm glad my hair is curly because who knows what kind of jagged edges I have going on in there.

After surviving the cut he moved on to styling. I don't worry too much about how stylists do my hair at the end because none of them know how to do it. Unless they straighten my hair I ALWAYS walk out of the salon with a mop of frizzy curls. You'd think they'd give a lesson in school about how to style curly hair. The only one who has EVER gotten my hair to curl and not frizz is my favorite stylist (and best friend) Nikki. The ONLY one. So, whatever, I was prepared for frizz. What I wasn't prepared for were the platinum blonde highlights that I received. These aren't pretty, been on the beach all summer highlights either. I have about 5 spots surrounding my face that are Playboy bunny blonde. The rest of my hair is dirty blonde. I look like Cruella Deville’s brunette sister. Not cute! I told Joe I looked like a stripper and he said, "all right!” Bad response!

I don't know what to do now. I don't know if I should buy a hair color kit from the store and try to dye it myself? Should I try to find another stylist to fix it? Should I go groveling back to my old hair girl and beg for forgiveness for ever doubting her skills? All I've managed to do so far is be a huge bitch and eat way too many "stress" calories. I guess that's my way of coping. Stouffers Mac-and-cheese and chicken nuggets. I just don't know what to do. I don't know how I'm going to go to work tomorrow. I know people are going to look at my hair and think it looks like shit. And what am I going to say to the people who lie and tell me it looks good? Do I call them a liar to their face? I guess this is what I get for trying to save some money. Damn it!